


brainless

by ShipperTrash140109



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Again, Anal Sex, Bottom Billy Hargrove, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Steve Harrington, appreciates the male form, jon isnt a creep he just..., photos taken without consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 11:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipperTrash140109/pseuds/ShipperTrash140109
Summary: The sight infront of him is almost impossible to look away from- when you removed the fact that it was the former king of Hawkins high fucking the new king of Hawkins high  brainless, it was lust, pure, unadulterated pleasure in the most animalistic and raw sense of the word.





	brainless

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my drafts for a long time and i finally got it finished today, i hope it's not too bad im just a really thirsty hoe for bottom billy and this idea really interested me
> 
> i encourage y'all to leave comments/kudos if you liked it- and if you didnt this is probably a one off so yay for you lmao.

Just as a disclaimer; Jonathan wasn’t sure about Bob, by this point they’d all been through so much that he had the right to be a little sceptical about letting people in.

But that being said, the camera Bob had brought home for Jonathan was pretty impressive. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, his mother could look after herself.

He’d barely been able to pull both of his shoes on before he was careening out of the house, camera slung around his neck and Joyce shouting after him to come back before dark. Jonathan was desperately excited to test this bad boy out. He’d seen some deer making their rounds in the neighbourhood and felt himself buzz with excitement at the idea of capturing them on such high-quality film.

The car takes a few turns of the key to start, the old vehicle unimpressed to be started up in the cold chill of the late afternoon, he’d need to stop off at Harrington’s house to try and get his hands on that bat, he’d seen too much to feel comfortable stumbling through the forest alone and unarmed. The new camera was a heavy weight in his lap, the strap more comfortable than the one adorning his previous camera tugged at his neck, the brunet slouching somewhat as he drove. He could’ve put it in the passenger seat, but the temptation to keep it as close and as safe as possible was too much for the young man.

When he finally pulled up to the Harrington residence, he wasn’t surprised to see that the only car on the property was Steve’s, his parents likely off on some vacation or business trip as they so often were. Carefully getting up and out of the car, Jonathan clutched a hand around the camera, the matte finish satisfying underneath his fingertips as he made his way to the door.

When he softly poked at the doorbell, he received no response, not even a faint ‘just a minute’ from somewhere in the large house. Jonathan bit the inside of his cheek, brow furrowing slightly before he pressed at it again, he really needed that bat, and Steve was the only person that would likely know its whereabouts.

After pressing it a third time and still having earned no response, the brunet huffed, maybe Steve was listening to music or something, the house was pretty big, he might have been too far away to hear it. He started to make his way around the side of the house, Steve should probably definitely hear him if he started shouting at him from the patio outside his window.

Not that he makes it to the patio, because the second his ears pick up a suspicious slew of sounds, he is ducking into the tree line. He didn’t know Steve had a girlfriend, otherwise he might’ve been more hesitant to pop round to grab the bat. He’s about ready to call it quits and save his camera trip for tomorrow when he hears it.

“_King _Steve, ooh yes” now that he’s closer, he can tell that is definitely not a girl, and he only knows one person who actually calls him that. When Jonathan moves slowly around the outside of the property, legs powered by his curiosity, he almost drops dead in shock when he realises his passing thought wasn’t as unrealistic as he’d first thought. He couldn’t mistake that mullet- Steve Harrington was actually fucking Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove, bent over the window sill, eyes rolled back in his skull and mouth open as he’s pushed back and forth against the window frame. Behind him Jonathan can only see up to Steve’s collarbones, his chest flushed and the muscles of his stomach flexing with each drive of his hips into the man in front of him. Jonathan can’t see the former king of Hawkins highs face, the top of the window obscuring him from the photographer’s point of view, and leaving him an anonymous torso.

He would be worried that Billy would see him if the blond weren’t so brainless, entire being focused on what Steve was doing, the hand in his hair harshly tugging every once and a while, the hips that never stuttered or slowed in their harsh movements into him, the way he at one point leant down, his thick hair hanging heavy over most of his face as he whispers something into the blond’s ear that makes him cry out before he’s harshly shoved back down against the frame, the hand that had been in his hair dropping to grip a muscular shoulder so hard that even from here Jonathan could see the whites of his knuckles.

There’s a dull thudding filling the air, a sound likely thanks to the meat of Billy’s thighs and his hips hitting the wall with every shove, a sound that is punctuated suddenly with a loud slap of Steve’s hand against the back of Billy’s thigh. It’s a sound that leaves Jonathan jumping, his camera almost flying out of his grip and he’s left nothing but thankful for the strap digging into the back of his neck.

The sight infront of him is almost impossible to look away from- when you removed the fact that it was the former king of Hawkins high fucking the new king of Hawkins high brainless, it was lust, pure, unadulterated pleasure in the most animalistic and raw sense of the word. They were no more than two wild animals using one another for their own pleasure- with Steve’s frequent assertions of dominance- the hair pulling, the shoving down onto the window sill, the slapping- a stark reminder to Billy that the old king wasn’t going to take the uprooting laying down- long live the king.

Jonathan was fumbling to raise his camera with shaking fingers- this situation was familiar, and it made his skin prickle- he knew how last time had ended, he wouldn’t- couldn’t let it happen this time. He knew nothing could bite him in the ass if he just turns around, gets in his car and drives home- forgets this whole business, but it’s such a sight, such a display that he can’t let it slip through his fingers, he’s pressing his eye to the viewfinder and telling himself that this’ll be different until he believes himself.

Billy is slick with sweat and tears, a shininess that isn’t missed by the camera. Steve’s lean torso is mottled greys and whites in the light of the dying sun and through the window infront of him. Beneath him, Billy’s mouth has dropped open again, and his arms cling to the sill like a lifeline, scrabbling at the fine paint and writhing until he’s almost dangling out of the window, fucked within an inch of his life.

Jonathan can’t get enough of it, his finger keeps pressing down, keeps capturing these precious moments where humanity is thrown out the window- no pun intended- in the wake of unbridled pleasure, they’re grunting like animals and Jonathan wishes he could capture sound.

He notices Steve’s hips stuttering, their remorseless pounding getting erratic and more desperate and Billy’s voice is struggling to make even the slightest squeak as he bucks back against the force behind him. Jonathan can see Billy’s mouth move- voice worn and from this distance no more than a low hum but he’s cackling and suddenly there’s a firm hand in his hair, wrenching his head to the side and Jonathan can imagine how much it burns but Billy gasps and goes with it, a line of spit connecting his lips to the sill growing longer before dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

It looks like Billy’s looking directly at him.

_He can’t be- he’s in no right state to be that observant, and if he had I’d be lucky to still have my balls, _Jonathan assures, slowly lowering the camera- the blond’s eyes are half lidded by this point, brows drawn as he focuses on that peak slowly building inside him- slowly filling his pelvis- cock likely painting a wet picture all over Harrington’s wall. Steve still hasn’t relinquished his hair but suddenly he twists his hips and Billy comes alive, back arching, ass lowering for a moment as if his knees are halfway to fully giving out and Steve is gasping out what sounds more like a growl, his stomach muscles jumping and rippling under his skin and he’s shoving hard into Billy- this time not moving back, his hips managing no more than a few small thrusts before grinding into the round golden ass he’s buried to the hilt inside- Jonathan wonders for a moment if they’re using protection, or if Steve wants to stake a claim, paint his seal into Billy’s most intimate place and mark him as property of the fallen king, Jonathan swallows thickly and quickly dismisses the thought.

Everything falls still a moment, Steve is sagging, leaning against the window and finally releasing Billy’s hair to stroke down his shoulders, coming to rest on his lower back, Jonathan can see the muscles in his arms moving if he squints.

Billy looks like death warmed up, able to do nothing more than breath, mouth open and eyes shut- there’s hues of red on the skin of his cheeks Jonathan can never wipe from his mind, like he’s cooking from the inside- cooking on the end of Steve’s cock.

Jonathan’s inching away carefully when there’s movement from the window, Steve gingerly pulling away from the still-limp body of the other boy, disappearing from view for a few long moments before returning, a flash of fluttering white revealing that he’s brought a cloth of sorts- and all is quiet as he softly cleans up a man he’d fucked without mercy just moments before.

It’s touching and Jonathan can see the curl to Billy’s lips as he catches his breath, the last he sees of the pair is Steve wrapping his arms around heaving ribs to pull him away from the window. Jonathan finally spares himself a breath and backs away, disappearing into the thicker undergrowth and starting back towards his car. In his hands his fingers grip the camera like Billy had held that window sill- he’d have to be careful with these.

He’s just gotten out of his car when he hears the crackle of dry leaves and turns to see a deer timidly making its way against the quiet road painted pink and orange in the dying sun. _Where were you half an hour ago? _He thinks with a huff, and the deer snorts back, shaking its head, as if to say, _well where were you half an hour ago?_

Jonathan hums, touché.

**Author's Note:**

> again, kudos and comments are extremely appreciated!!


End file.
